A Little After 8
by coffeevixen84
Summary: A short oneshot on Logan's finding out about the bus crash.


A Little After 8…

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

Author's Note: Not very well written, but a one shot I needed to get out of my system. It was one thing they didn't deal with at all on the show that really upset me. Again, this isn't very well done…but I feel better having it out of my system. Thanks for reading, and please please please review.

* * *

It was a little after 8pm when Logan Echolls, who had finally pulled himself out of his afternoon's much needed nap ten minutes before (romping around with his friends' step mom had been exhausting), and was just now making his way downtown to dine on whatever it was rich pseudo-orphans ate for supper, heard the news bulletin interrupt some song he wasn't really listening to on Neptune's obligatory teen-angst-rock radio station. The reporter's voice didn't even try to sound remote or unbiased as it notified the public that six of his classmates, along with one teacher and a bus driver, had plummeted into the ocean earlier that evening, on their way home from an after-school fieldtrip at Shark Stadium. He was shaking when the voice continued, stating that only one had survived the crash, and that no names were being released yet.

* * *

It was a little after a little after 8pm when Logan Echolls pulled his brightly colored X-Terra to the side of the road and opened his door just wide enough to relieve his empty stomach of a heartbroken mixture of bile and blood and tears. He had friends on that bus, best friends old and new, classmates he'd known forever, yet only one girl seemed to linger in his mind. _**Her**_ face as he saw her board that very bus;_** her**_ face as he told her, irreverently, that he'd miss her. Some day he suspected he'd notice the unfortunate irony in that. He remembered then how she'd watched him watch her, eyes linking momentarily as she clambered down the narrow aisle. And then he'd walked away, cursing her in his mind for letting him go. For always letting him go.

* * *

Somehow it got to be a lot after 8pm when Logan Echolls found himself, still unfed, still shaking, still pulled off to the side of the road, with his finger hovering over 'Send' on his cell phone. 

It rang. Several times. Longer than it usually had, back when he actually used to call her. And he didn't notice that he didn't breathe…until there was a click, and a pause, and a tearful, "Logan?"

And then all the air around him moved again, into his mouth, into his lungs; and he was still alive because she was.

It was a hoarse grunt that asked, "Veronica?"

And it was a small voice that answered. "I'm fine, Logan. I wasn't on the bus."

There was a relieved sob, but from which end of the phone line neither knew or cared.

Lots of silence passed between them, he was in no hurry to hang up. And to be honest, neither was she.

He listened to her breathing, his insides un-twisting a little with every exhale he heard.

* * *

It was a little before 11pm when Logan Echolls finally felt the need to speak again. Her breathing was getting heavier, and he could just picture her eyelids slowly closing into sleep. 

"Veronica?"

After the length of their silence his voice was still thick and gravelly, but at least it was no longer due to his fear.

"Mmm?"

He was willing to bet the phone was balanced on her pillow to cradle against her ear, that her knees were pulled up towards her chest under the warmth of her comforter, and that her lips were parted so slightly, too tired to close all the way in case she needed separate them to speak.

"I know we're, well, we aren't…" He let the sentence fall into nothingness. He knew she was well aware of everything they weren't. When he continued his words were mumbled in an unintentional whisper. "But, I'm glad you're….you know."

There was no answer at first, and he was scared that he'd overstepped the invisible boundary of this delicate truce. But he sighed with relief when he heard her answer, in a voice as quiet as his own.

"I know."

He nodded and gulped down an unshed tear or two. "Goodnight, Veronica."

"Goodnight, Logan."

* * *

It was almost exactly 12pm when Logan Echolls, no longer shaking and now fed on the fried grease that was the only thing available in the late night hours, parked his brightly colored X-Terra in front of his oversized house that never quite felt like a home. He pushed his way into the dark front hall and climbed the steps to his room, collapsing onto the bed without even bothering to change, and stared for countless minutes at his ceiling. Reaching into the nightstand drawer he pulled out a framed photograph. The glass was cracked and there was a chip on the upper right corner of the casing from where he'd thrown it against the wall several weeks back. At the time he'd been angry that it was harder to break than his heart, which had shattered, completely, easily, with such little force. But staring at it now the picture held two smiling faces, pressed cheek to cheek, with two sets of eyes shining brightly. And he remembered so vividly the day it was taken. That day not so long ago when he'd honestly believed he could make her happy and keep her safe. He'd been so sure, then, that she was falling in love with him. 

He clutched the frame to his chest and he let slow, silent tears fall. Tears that continued even after he was sound asleep.

* * *

It was a little after 8am when Logan Echolls, running late for first period, halted in his tracks, stopping as his eyes fell upon Veronica Mars, alive, in the flesh and blood, tucked protectively under the arm of Duncan Kane. He waited for the burst of pain to fill his chest like always, for the familiar sweep of hot jealousy to burn every inch of his skin. He waited for the harsh words he really only wished he meant to fall from his lips so she would be burning too. But none of it came. 

Instead, he offered a small and sincere smile. He walked quietly and politely past. And he could feel her grateful gaze on his back.

Tomorrow maybe his pain would be back, his misery renewed. But for now, at this very moment in time, Logan Echolls was too thankful to be hurt or jealous or angry.

Veronica Mars was alive.


End file.
